


hold my gaze love (you know i want to let it go)

by seasidhe (sidhedcv)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, M/M, Pirates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:22:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24212833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sidhedcv/pseuds/seasidhe
Summary: There's a strange sound in the air and before Francis can even ask what the hell was that about, the chaos start. Broken windows and women screaming and guards grunting loudly. His father held at gunpoint by men Francis has never seen before.“Captain Kirkland, at your service," the pirate offers with a smirk, and only a second later Francis finds himself thrown over the man's shoulder. "Governor? We'll be in touch for the ransom of your son.”
Relationships: England/France (Hetalia)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 50





	hold my gaze love (you know i want to let it go)

**Author's Note:**

> Scritta per i prompt: 1) Rating: SAFE | warning: Alternate Universe | genere: Romantico e 5) Break My Heart, Dua Lipa | il fanwork deve avere un protagonista maschile di LDF.

"Did you hear about that pirate who escaped last night? Frightening, absolutely frightening."

“No, what happened?” asks another woman, clearly interested in the latest gossip news. Francis isn’t really listening, to be honest. He shouldn’t find these high society parties so damn boring but the truth is... he does? He likes the atmosphere, yes, of course. He likes the food, and the places and the palaces and the dresses. But everything else? All those boring people with their judging looks and their even more judging opinions?

His father is laughing with a group of nobles and Francis dares to look at him, hoping he’ll see his bored look and he’ll decide to go home. His mother is patiently listening to other women even though Francis is perfectly aware she would much rather be home with a good book.

This used to be fun when Antonio was still home. When he wasn’t away, busy exploring oceans and hunting down pirates. This used to be fun when Antonio was still there. They used to be together and laugh at all those boring nobles and their father would laugh with them and their mother would give them all a reprimanding look and then laugh with them.

Now? Now everything is boring, just plain boring. And he has to attend, he has to. Antonio went away and he got to do exactly what he always wanted to do and Father made perfectly clear Francis has to marry well for the sake of their family.

The problem is Francis doesn’t want to.

And it’s not that he doesn’t want to marry someone, he really wants that. He has been dreaming of marrying the right person for the most part of his life. There are only two problems: one, he wants to marry for love and not for any other reason. Other reasons that are kind of exactly what his family is first and foremost concerned about. And that's why Francis finds himself engaged to a boring woman who has the same amount of interest in him as he has in her. None.

Two, when he thinks about the right person, he always thinks about men. Always have, always will be. And that really is the biggest problem for his future marriage.

“So, apparently they managed to capture a pirate, a few days ago, and they locked him in prison. But he escaped last night! Nobody knows how he managed to do that, they just know he vanished into thin air!”

“Oh my, that really is awful.”

“Can you imagine? That brute is somewhere around here!”

“You think? My husband says he’s probably already on a ship and that we’re safe.”

Francis is still listening, a bit more interested in this daily gossip than he was before. He heard of the pirate, of course. Everyone heard of the pirate. Apparently he’s a bit of a nightmare for the entire court and the guards were particularly happy to have him in their custody. He was waiting for his trial - and Francis' father said it the death sentence was almost a certainty. Francis likes to imagine this hulking brute, covered in scars, a single eye, and the most terrifying look on his face.

Everything is better than this boring party, even fantasy.

"It's a nice day to be out here," a voice that Francis doesn't recognize right behind him, way closer than it should be. "Nice, sunny day. The perfect day for a party."

"Yes, it's a nice day," he simply answers, forcing himself not to turn around immediately. Francis doesn't like to be taken by surprise - nor does he like to show surprise.

"And what a nice party! Splendid location and amazing food and- _so_ _many_ influential guests!"

"Thank you for your kind words. I'm glad my efforts are appreciated."

Francis thinks this is the right moment to turn and so he does. He finds himself in front of a man he's sure he has already seen somewhere - but he can't recall exactly where or when.

The man looks roughly the same age as Francis is and has a smile that could only mean trouble. Blond hair and green eyes and really, really nice shoulders. It's not like Francis has a thing for shoulders. He doesn't. It's just that the man has really nice - lean but well built - shoulders and Francis appreciates them as he appreciates art or music. It's not that he has a thing for men's shoulders. He doesn't, he really doesn't.

"You organized all of this? You're full of surprises, uh?" the other man is smirking and Francis isn't sure he likes the tone of his voice. "So you're not just a pretty face?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"I mean I knew you were important - being the son of the governor and everything else - but this is very... what's the word, cute? Yeah, cute."

"... Cute? Excuse me, sir, I don't think we know each other and I'd like to go talk to literally anyone else."

"My, aren’t we feisty,” the other man is openly laughing and Francis has never felt so offended in his whole life. He doesn’t know why exactly this particular person is making him feel like this but he certainly doesn’t like the power this man has over him. It takes all his self-control not to say something the son of the governor shouldn’t really say.

But when he tries to go away, the man takes him in his arms and a just a few seconds later they’re dancing. Those movements were so smooth Francis doesn’t really understand what happened and it takes him a whole minute to recover.

They’re dancing. Together. The man is holding him close, a hand firmly planted on Francis’ lower back as he’s leading the dance. Because they’re dancing. Like a couple. Like man and woman. Except they aren’t. Except everybody else starts staring and Francis is suddenly aware of it and it’s terrible and- exhilarating at the same time.

“Cat got your tongue, beautiful?” the man is smirking again and Francis is pretty sure he just felt the hand sliding a little lower. A little bit too low.

“You are by far the most insufferable man I’ve ever met.”

“I bet I’m also the most interesting man you’ve ever met. I imagine it doesn’t take too much, though. Everybody here seems very... dull.”

Francis does his best to ignore the other man's satisfied grin but it's difficult, it really is. Almost as difficult as trying not to lean onto him. Almost as difficult as trying not to enjoy what's happening even a single bit. The man is holding him so close to his chest Francis has to think about literally anything else in order to maintain any sort of decency at all - and it's maddening, absolutely maddening.

Francis is highly aware of the looks of the whole room. He's highly aware of what they must be thinking - of what his father must be thinking. His mother, his lovely fiancée. But he's also _oh so highly aware_ of the way the other man is holding him, of the way he's looking at him, of the way he looks and smells and breathes and smirk.

And it's so very hard to do the right thing.

“I don't know you and I'm pretty sure I've never seen you around. So: who the hell are you and how do you manage to sneak into my party?”

“Sneak into your party wasn't the difficult part, love. Not after what I did to sneak out of the prison cell.”

A stunned moment of silence follows those words, as Francis is forced to contemplate what exactly the man is implying - and who exactly the man is.

“Now, as much as I'm enjoying this dance,” the man whispers, so close to Francis' ear that he has to repress a shiver. "There's somewhere I need to be. And I'd appreciate it if you'd come with me without struggling.”

There's a strange sound in the air and before Francis can even ask what the hell was that about, the screaming start. Broken windows and women screaming and guards grunting loudly. His father held at gunpoint by men Francis has never seen before.

“Captain Kirkland, at your service," the pirate offers with a smirk, and only a second later Francis finds himself thrown over the man's shoulder. "Governor? We'll be in touch for the ransom of your son.”

And just like that, Francis finds himself thrown on a pirate ship, surrounded by pirates and at the mercy of one particular pirate's captain, locked in his cabin.

Captain Kirkland is not at all what Francis thought he was going to be. Scratch all those fantasies of hulking brutes covered in scars with a single eye. He has the face - and apparently the cleaning habits - of a gentleman.

Not the manners, maybe, not when he doesn't want to. And of course no gentleman would walk around with a leather coat and leather pants and leather _everything_ , two swords and two pistols strapped to his chest.

But striking green eyes, a stupidly dashing smirk, and a lean but built figure aren't exactly what anyone immediately imagine when thinking about a pirate.

And every single one of these thoughts is _so_ much louder than any soon-to-be marriage, especially when paired with the fact that apparently, pirates are a little bit more handsy than what Francis is used to.

“Have you considered tell me where are you taking me? You know, since you so brutishly took me away from my home and my family I think the least you could do is tell me where are we going.”

They only answer Francis always gets is the usual smirk and a piercing look that really, really bothers him in all the wrong way.

It takes a few days before the captain feels safe enough to let Francis outside of the cabin and, from that moment on, Francis spends his days observing and exploring, causing the least amount of trouble he can.

To the crew, that's it. Not to the captain.

“You're insufferable! And you're also English, and that's by far the worst part of all of this mess you've got me into.”

Among everything Francis yells, Captain Kirkland seems to take offense at the sole mention of his homeland. “Oh my God, do you _ever_ shut up?"

“... No, I don't have the habit to stop complaining, not after I'm kidnapped and taken away from my family and forced into a ship in the middle of the ocean! I absolutely despise the ocean!”

“We're heading to Nassau! Is Nassau land enough for you?” Kirkland blurts out, probably worn out by all of Francis' talking. Exactly what he hoped was going to happen. Kirkland seems to notice his slip and quickly recovers by pretending not to have slipped at all. “Trust me, you'll like it there.”

“Are you taking me back home? No? That's what I thought. So no, I don't think I will.”

Days go by and Francis decides he has to make the most of this unexpected journey: sure enough not all pirates must be as bad as everyone always told him.

And it turns out they aren't so bad, not at all. It turns out they're just men - and _oh_ , does Francis _know_ how to get along with men. One by one he gets to know a little bit of all of them and it constantly amazes Francis how they're really just _men_.

It also turns out they're really, _really_ bad at accounting. The ship's finances are in a dreadful state and the men manage to spend more than they actually have. When Francis inquires who is supposed to handle the finances, the crew points to their newly appointed quartermaster (one Callum, apparently Captain Kirkland's eldest brother), who's the absolute best at handling the men and the absolute worst at handling money.

Saoirse, the sailing master of the ship and yet another one of Kirkland's siblings (Francis starts to wonder if the entirety of the crew is made of just one family), tells him that her brother, the captain, is perfectly able to but doesn't have enough time to handle the finances of the ship.

And it shows, it really shows. And it's bad and Francis, in all good conscience, cannot tolerate this state of things. He simply cannot.

So he sweet-talks Callum into letting him see the accounting books and he takes the reins from there. It gives him something to do other than lurking around and it gives him something to think about other than a certain captain. It's a win for everyone.

From that moment on, the rest of the crew starts warming up to Francis. They come to him to talk, to ask about and for things, to offer him things he didn’t even ask for.

Francis learns that Captain Kirkland has the reputation of one of the best pirates of the New World, but that he’s not exactly a social man. His men only see him when the situation requests his presence: he leaves his cabin, does an excellent job, and then goes back to his books.

And his men are okay with that, really, but it’s so easy to just slip into the vacant role Kirkland has left, so easy and so natural that neither Francis nor the rest of the crew noticed.

It doesn’t take much more time for almost the entirety of the crew to grows fond of Francis - a perfectly executed job, if Francis says so himself. Of course growing fond of the crew wasn’t exactly part of his well-thought plan.

"Captain has decided to go after a prize.”

"What does that mean?” Francis is aware of the worried look on the face of this particular pirate - Mr. Adnan, as he has come to know him - and he’s also particularly aware of the fact that he’s just been locked in the safest part of the ship.

"It means we're going to attack another ship and we all want you to be safe."

"What does your captain think about this?"

"He told us to. But we want to keep you safe, too,” the other man offers and Francis can’t help but smile a little.

"Well, that's very thoughtful of you."

Francis is quite certain he just witnessed his first pirate blush.

When he meets Ossian, yet another member of Captain Kirkland’s family, Francis finds out there’s more he can do.

“That chicken really doesn’t look cooked.”

“Oh thanks Jesus, I need help over here. Please, help me? Please?”

It turns out that the ship’s cook died right before their departure and there wasn’t enough time to find a replacement. Ossian was the only expendable member of the crew.

And Ossian isn’t a good cook.

“I know that! I don’t like to cook, I like to eat! But Arthur said I had to try my best and I tried, I really did. I’m just- shit at this.”

Francis looks at the almost raw chicken Ossian apparently wanted to give the rest of the crew. He shudders at the thought of what could happen.

“It’s okay, I’ll help you. You can peel those potatoes and I’ll think about everything els..”

 _Gratitude_ isn’t enough to describe the look in the crew’s eyes. They cheer and shout and compliment Francis almost like gentlemen, while he smiles and makes a scene of shielding himself from the praises.

Captain Kirkland scoffs and eats his dinner alone.

And while the relationship with the other pirates has significantly improved, the same cannot be said about the relationship with the captain. Arthur Kirkland is the most insufferable man Francis has ever met. The most English men Francis has ever met. And Francis still doesn’t know what the hell does Kirkland want from him.

Other than the ransom, of course, that much is clear. But it isn’t just the ransom, Francis can tell by the way Kirkland’s gaze is always on him. By the way he looks and talks to him, by the way he suddenly decides where Francis should be or what Francis should do. By the dangerous look he had the first time he saw Francis laughing with his men.

“I think you should go back to my cabin.”

“I don’t want to go back to your cabin, thank you very much. I’m perfectly happy to stay here.”

Captain Kirkland doesn’t look particularly amused by Francis’ voice - and that probably explains why he just decided, _again_ , to throw him over his shoulder.

"Unhand me, you brute!”

Kirkland starts laughing but is forced to stop when confronted with the rest of the crew on deck, silently staring at him. Francis has a perfect view of what’s happening from the other’s man shoulder and it really is exhilarating.

"If he doesn't want to be manhandled I reckon you should let go, captain,” one of the men - Francis recently advised him on how to safely spend his money and have enough to send something back to his wife - quietly says and the rest of the crew murmurs and nods in agreement.

"... How the fuck did you manage to turn my entire crew against me? How the fuck did you do that?”

"You really don't know how to talk to people, do you?”

Nassau is nothing like Francis expected. 

It’s messy and chaotic and dirty and full of people. It’s a crude drawing of the worst parts of his city. It’s people screaming at the top of their lungs, it’s a chaotic build-up of outdoor markets, it’s prostitutes and thieves and pirates and mercenaries.

Francis falls in love with it.

Francis falls in love with every bit of freedom he can get, between the cramped houses of Nassau and the open sea when they sail again.

“I reckon we should hear from the Governor any day now,” Kirkland tells him one evening, while they’re both on the deck. Francis has grown quite fond of the ocean. Or at least of its view from the ship.

“I told you my father was willing to pay for my release.”

"Never had any doubts. I wouldn't have kidnapped you if I had any.”

Francis scoffs and keeps his eyes on the horizon. Arthur shifts beside him, closer than Francis would like - and yet not close enough. Silence falls between them and it's not at all uncomfortable.

Captain Kirkland’s eyes are fixed on the horizon and

"I see you're enjoying yourself on the ship.”

"Would you have me cower in your shadow? Frightened and scared?”

"I wouldn't want you like that. I much prefer you _willing._ ”

Arthur leaves him with that sentence. Alone on the deck of the ship where he’s a hostage. With a crew of pirates he should hate and a captain he should despise. Francis’ heart beats wildly against his chest and there’s nothing he can do about it.

And sure enough, a letter from the Governor arrives.

Francis' father is, of course, ready to pay whatever sum requested to have his son back. Arthur should be happy, the whole crew should be glad this is finally going to be over. Francis should be excited and glad and relieved.

No one is.

“Were you happy, back home?”Arthur asks one night, when they're dining together in his quarters.

“Of course I was,” Francis replies almost mechanically, picking at his food. That's the only answer he can have, obviously. Of course he was happy. He had everything he could've wished for.

“Were you really?”

Except Arthur doesn't seem convinced of his answer. He keeps looking at him like he's searching for something, like he knows there's so much more behind that answer.

(And maybe he knows, maybe he's aware. He was there, at that damned party. He danced with Francis. It was Arthur, pressed against his body. Arthur, holding him close and whispering into his ears. Arthur, making his head spin, making him feel something Francis never felt before.)

“I was happy being with my family. I love my parents. And I won’t lie, I liked my luxuries and all the comforts I had back home.”  
“And what about everything else?”

“Everything else was perfectly fine. And I was happy. I truly was happy. Until my brother decided to go gallivanting on a ship and leave me back home to shoulder every responsibility we had towards my family.”

Arthur hums but doesn't say anything and for the first time in his life, Francis feels like he's allowed to complain about this. About _it._

 _“_ My father already arranged a marriage for me. She's a lovely woman, I've known her for a while. We were childhood friends.”

“Sounds perfect.”

“Yes.”

“But you don't like women.”

Silence falls between them and for a few moments Francis is afraid of what's going to happen when he tells the truth, for the first time of his life. Then he remembers Arthur pressed against him and figures he's the one person who couldn't really judge him.

“It's not the I don't like women. I just don't _like_ women as much as I like men.”

“Can't relate with that,” Arthur grins like he always does, and like it always happens, Francis' heart skips a beat. “I like men _and_ women alike.”

“Greedy,” Francis mutters with a half-smile.

Arthur's laughter echoes across the ship.

They discuss the best way to do the exchange. Well, the crew does.

(Francis is not part of the crew. Francis is the goddamn hostage. He should fucking remember that.)

They don't seem overly eager to decide the best way to get their money without getting shot at. Saoirse doesn't offer any daring plan. Callum doesn't say anything at all.

Captain Kirkland devises a few half-hatched plans. He doesn't decide for one in particular and tells the crew he's going to perfect the details and then tell them what exactly are they going to do. They sails towards Francis' home.

Francis dreads the passing of the days.

Francis spends most of the evenings on the deck, looking at the ocean beneath them. There's something terrifying about it, and yet something incredibly peaceful. He's still scared, of course, but until he's safe and sound on the ship, well... it's an incredible view.

And he supposes he needs to make the most of the last moments of freedom he can get.

There's a movement beside him, then a sigh. As usual, Arthur is focused on the horizon. Francis shivers and doesn't know if it's because of the cold or because of something else.

“You could always decide to stay with us,” Arthur offers after a while, almost like he's talking about something easy. There's nothing easy in this. Nothing at all. And most of all-

“And what? You'd let me? What about the ransom? What about your money?”

“It wasn't that much money.”

“Yes it was.”

“We don't need that much money.”

“Yes you do. I run the numbers, remember?”

“I don't _care_ about the money!”

“... You what?”

“I don't care about the money. Stay with us.”

And that's it. Really, that's it. Francis can't take it anymore. Arthur tells him he doesn't care about the ridiculously insane amount of money he'd have if he only brought Francis back. Arthur. Captain Kirkland.

Arthur doesn't care about the money and Francis can't take it anymore.

He grabs his shirt and kisses him, fiercely and wildly like he never kissed anyone before. Arthur doesn't waste a single moment. His hands immediately find Francis' hips, exactly like their first meeting, and he takes control of the kiss as soon as he can. Francis finds himself almost crushed between the taffrail and Arthur's body.

Francis finds that he really doesn't care.

“Fucking finally,” Arthur murmurs against his mouth. Francis lets out an exhilarated and seriously undignified giggle.

For the third time in a few months, Francis finds himself thrown over Arthur’s shoulder, headed for his quarters. Arthur’s hands keep him in place like he’s used to.

For the first time, Francis doesn’t want to be anywhere else.

It takes them a lot of time and a lot of discussions to reach a solution. It takes them a lot of time because they spend most of the day, when Arthur isn't needed in the deck, locked in his quarters.

“Again?” Arthur asks, breathless, grazing Francis’ neck with his teeth.

“Yes please,” Francis answer immediately, basking in Arthur’s hoarse laughter.

It takes them a lot of time to agree on something. Anything. Well, anything that isn’t sex, at least. It takes them a lot of well-spent time.

"You do realize you can't keep me here? You'll have the whole navy after you. And my own brother on his flagship.”

“Oh, I reckon I already had a few encounters with your brother. Nothing to worry about. I mean, he's good enough of a captain. Nothing like me, though.”

Arthur flashes his usual grin and Francis finds it difficult to reply. When Arthur looks at him in that way, Francis finds it difficult to do anything.

“So, you'll stay with us? Say it. Say you’ll stay with us.”

“I-”

“Say you’ll stay with _me_.”

Arthur gives orders to reverse course and go back to Nassau. He doesn’t give further explanations. He doesn’t have to.

“So I gather you’re staying with us?” Callum asks with a smile, and the rest of the crew cheers when Francis nods. Arthur looks smug. Ossian is almost weeping in relief. Arthur looks happy.

For the first time in his life, Francis feels _free_.


End file.
